FNGs
by Shadowbearer
Summary: When Captain Price and Gaz are joined by 3 new FNGs 'Frigging New Guys', The FNGs are plunged head-first into one of the harshest environments on earth - Urban Warfare. From Russia to China, this is the worst time to be an FNG. CoD4 - Alt. Uni. Characters
1. Chapter 1

**FNGs**

Soap weighed the gun up in his right hand. The bandages were not helping him, and he fumbled with it until it dropped to the floor with a crash. Gaz turned. "Oh, bloody hell Soap, can't you 'old a fuckin' gun anymore?" His spritely cockney accent was familiar. Captain Price's heavy boots echoed all the way through the killhouse. "Alright. Soap?" Soap turned. "Good to see you and still, a muppet like you passes selection." He nodded at the bandages. "I guess that Kamarov kept his promise that you were going to be alright." Soap looked down. He nodded. Soap picked up the gun. "Those G36cs aren't exactly well built." Gaz removed his W1200 from his back. "I like to keep this for close encounters. And these 'effin' FNGs…" Gaz remarked. "FNGs?" Soap asked. "Yeah. Fucking New Guys. We've got more meat for the mincer." Captain Price laughed. The killhouse delivery doors opened. How ironic, the new SAS team members were coming in through the delivery doors. Their silhouettes told a story all by themselves. Soap could tell some simple things from the silhouettes:

The one on the left was a tall male with a G36c.

The middle one was a woman, also a G36c.

The right hand man was all ghillied up, with an L96.

Their faces came into focus. The left hand male was chiselled with dark brown hair. The woman was shorter with red-brown hair and freckles. The right-hand man was short, but taller than the woman with mousey brown hair and a pale face. They wore pitch-black uniform, and their assault vests were bulging with ammunition and weaponry. "When do we start training?" The cheery voice of the female seemed… unfamiliar to Captain Price and Gaz. There hadn't been a female in the squad since Captain Price's enrolment into the SAS as a private. Understandably, Price was nervous.

"Listen up, Ford, I want you to know, just because you're a woman, you're no different.

You're gonna go through the same training, same schedule, same weapons, same time. No quarter."

Ford nodded in agreement with every word. Price turned to face the dark-haired man. "You." Price didn't mix words. There wasn't much time. The first objective was almost going to be sprung on the FNGs. They seemed prepared. Or was this all a clever façade to seem prepared and to seem like they were the right choice for this mission. "You take Ford with Gaz and Greene, and get into Bay C-16-B52. Get in, shut up." Gaz nodded. "What, no training?!" The dark-haired man sounded as if he was panicking. "Fine." He followed Gaz, and held Ford's wrist and dragged her along. She tore away her hand. "I can get there myself, thank you." She spoke with such spite in her voice. The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow in sarcasm. "Are you sure you can get there yourself?" Ford turned. "Just because we're FNGs, doesn't mean we have to act like the new little children, Blunt." Blunt looked at her like she had slapped him square across the face. "Get in Katie." Blunt playfully patted her backside, and after which, Gaz just stared at Blunt like he had just put up an anti-war picket. Katie peeked back out. "WE KNOW EACH OTHER." She sounded a little harassed and embarrassed. Soon, the helicopter was filled with the soldiers of 2nd Squad. Captain Price casually smoked a cigar on the way to their destination, which to the three new recruits was unknown.

The destination turned out to be Orsha, Belarus. There were Russian missiles being shipped in and out of a Belarusian factory deemed out of use and planned for demolition 20 years ago. The helicopter landed, sending dust into the air. Price jumped out, then Gaz, then the Sniper, Joseph, followed by Blunt who gently helped Ford out of the Helicopter. Greene jumped out on the other side of the helicopter.

Greene backed around the front of the helicopter, assessing the ruined buildings. Ford stared aimlessly at one apartment block. "Maybe, you know… we should assess in there first." Katie murmured quietly. "I could do with the vantage point." Joe remarked. Captain Price paused for a while, and then nodded. "Okay." The squad set off, and arrived in the building. The foyer was huge and grey, with nothing around. No furniture was set up, and a few flyers were strewn across the floor, some declaring the nuclear site closed, some for political parties. Joe was looking up the stairs, down the scope to see if anyone was there.

Joe slowly edged up the first stair, and was just about to step up to the second when Captain Price barged past him. Price took the cigar from his mouth and threw it up the stairs. Gunshots echoed through the building. Price dived down the stairs, pushing Joe down the steps. Ford yelped and sidestepped to avoid the two soldiers tumbling down the stairs, but got caught and fell with them. When they crashed against a wall with a dull thud, Joseph jumped up and ran, whilst crouched, to a low partition wall, which had been reduced to a few inches of rubble. Captain Price picked up his gun, whilst still slumped against the wall and fired blindly at the area he was originally at. Now there was a fire-fight. Ford rolled over. She looked down, shakily at her right leg, which felt sore. She saw a large knife stuck in, twisted, soaked in blood. "OH SHIT!" Price turned and saw it, cursing under his breath as he fumbled to see if his knife was still in its holster.

It wasn't.

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!" Katie was panicking. The blood was spilling onto the floor. "WHAT DO I DO?!" Blunt rushed over to assess the situation. Joe was still firing off shots at random. Gaz pulled the pin from a grenade and threw the grenade up the stairs. "'Ave that you bastards…" Jake tapped the knife gingerly. Katie doubled up in pain.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?! THAT'S NOT HELPING!" Katie shouted loudly, swinging for Jake with such ferocity that she could have killed him. "Sorry! Sorry!" Jake put his left arm around her protectively, and his right arm at her knee joint and lifted her up. "First day with this lot, you get stabbed by your own Captain." A voice echoed out of the bullets and bombs. "BOLLOCKS! SHE STABBED HERSELF!"

Captain Price was determined to keep morale up, even if it was only his dry, sarcastic, rapier-sharp wit. Blunt ran over to where Joseph was taking cover. He laid Ford down carefully and looked up and down her body, running his hand gently up her hourglass figure. "Are you okay?" He asked with sympathy. "Not really, there's kind of a knife in my leg hun, so if you'd be a babe and patch me up, I'd be grateful." Ford smirked, sarcastically. "Hey, you can't be talking to me like that in a situation like this. Besides, just because we-" Blunt was cut off as a bullet whizzed past his right ear. He dived and landed next to Ford. "SO MUCH FOR THE STEALH, THIS HAS GONE TITS UP." Gaz shouted out through the G36c fire and AK bullets clashing with the concrete cover. Blunt looked at Ford's chest. "Oh, ha-ha." Ford laughed, sarcastically. Suddenly, the gunshots stopped…

A few shots were heard, and then footsteps down the stairs where the fire had come from, accompanied by the gleeful cheering of Greene: "Try that on for size, you dirty little Rushki bastards! Heheeee! Woo! Oh yeah!" Gaz lowered his G36c. "Nice Greene. Skanky tactic, but I like it." Gaz said, patting Greene on the back.

"Well done Greene, but we've got a problem." Captain Price turned to face Ford, and saw Blunt tending to her. "Get a room!" shouted Joseph, who laughed at his own comments. "We already did- URK!" Ford pulled Blunt down. "You shut up about that. JUST. TAKE. THE. KNIFE. OUT." Ford was punching Blunt in the breastbone with every word. Blunt's hand was quivering as he gripped the knife. He exhaled slowly, and then yanked it out.

The loud squelching sound of flesh and blood was accompanied by Ford's squeal of horror. "JAKE! IT HURTS SO MUCH, PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!" Tears choked her every word. Ford looked around. In front of her was Blunt, crouched over her, looking worried, holding a machete-like knife, with blood almost up to the hilt. Gaz was still on point, assessing the area. Greene was kicking the corpses. Price was watching her every move (if you could call them moves – more likes shudders). She couldn't really hear him, the pain was numbing her senses. Her eyesight was fading, she was blacking out. 'Hang on Katie, everything will be just fine.' She thought. Just fine. Ha. No it wasn't… she was… was… dying. As her sight faded into blackness, she heard Captain Price on the radio for immediate medical assistance. One thing was assured – This hadn't been the first day Ford had imagined…


	2. Chapter 2

FNG – The Blurred Escape

Ford could hear voices, faintly, but it was marred by the loud rapturous rush of air from the helicopter's propellers. She felt all over herself, checking for wounds, just to see if there were any- Bull's-eye. Katie ran her fingers along either side of the opening where the knife had been. Her trousers were sodden with blood. She meekly used her index and middle finger to push either side of the wound open, gingerly and slowly. She slowly pushed her finger in, and she felt every little bump in her flesh inside. It was like putting her finger in… in… in some kind of raw meat. She felt sick as she pushed down deeper, and she gritted her teeth. She froze. Her whole body went numb. The bone. She ran her finger across it horizontally, and then realised. There was a crack in it from the knife. Ford was determined to prove her worth. She sat up, lifting the non-injured leg for support, and pulled out her pistol. She held it out as steadily as she could, but the pain and tears were making her quiver and shake like a leaf in a tornado. A warm hand grabbed her wrist. She turned her head to see Blunt, looking concerned, but sympathetic. She couldn't hear him, but she read his lips. He was repeating himself, like a broken record: "Everything is fine. You're getting out of here. Stay with me. Everything is fine. You're getting out of here. Stay with me. Everything is fine…" She shook as the stretcher was loaded onto the helicopter. She turned her head to face out the right hand side of the helicopter, and saw the abandoned building, but one thing caught her eye. A man, on the roof, with something glistening. "RPG!" Gaz shouted, as the rocket flew in a spiral right toward Katie. The whole world seemed to shake, as lights flashed all around Katie, and the flames seemed to lick her face, the sound of crushing metal and explosions, yells from the pilot, and the horrifying sight of the ground approaching at uncomfortably high speeds. As the helicopter hit the ground, Katie suddenly felt calm, and peace, and no more pain. She stood up. Partially.

She fell to the floor, and as she did, pushed a large metal bar. The bar only budged, but brought the propellers, all of them contorted and mangled, crashing down on her. There was silence, bar the sound of flames crackling in the forested undergrowth. Katie called out. "Hello? Anyone there?" Silence, not even an echo. Katie was alone, helpless, and left to die. Suddenly, that knife in the leg didn't seem so terrible after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Regroup

Ford could hear noises, faint footsteps, and voices, as quiet as whispers in the breeze, in Russian, calling for… a voice, loud, authorative echoed out from the vague rushing sounds of the wind in her ears. The crackling of flames around her from the fuselage told her she was, inevitably, still trapped. "Petrenko! Raskolnikov! Chernov! Chyort, curse your filthy hides, move!" Ford slowly but surely translated the Russian. A higher, more quiet and meek voice shouted. "Forgive me, sergeant, I was behind, checking for survivors." The barking voice was loud and booming in her ears. "Silence, Chernov. There is one survivor here." Another voice, deeper but calmer. "Sir, there are no corpses. Maybe she was left as bait for a trap." The sergeant shouted again. "A trap?! Ha!" His laugh boomed through Katie's skull. He head ached from… the wound. She remained motionless, but edged her hand towards her leg. She felt her trousers. Dry. She must have been here for a while, a few hours maybe. She pushed the leg area around the wound, but there was not blood. It was possible that the weight of the fuselage and propeller had cut off the blood to her leg, helping the wound by applying pressure. Wow, she had one thing for sure that was more effective than weapons – Luck. Shame, her luck had run out. The Russians surrounded her and pushed away the fuselage, grunting and breathing heavily, cursing under their breath in Russian. The sergeant bent down over her. Her spoke, fluently, although with a strong accent, in English : "Welcome to Belarus, Ms. Ford. We have been expecting you…" Katie felt her arms be lifted up clumsily, and her legs were dragged free seemingly effortlessly, even though there were audible grunts and wheezes from her unseen assistants. The arms gently sat her up, and the two men walked back around to face her. The sergeant bent over and inspected her body. He frowned, but looked deeply into her eyes, and smiled.

"You are going to be alright, my friend." "My friend? Katie snapped. "You stupid RUSHKI BARSTOOLS shot us down!" Katie paused, and her mouth gaped in fear for a second. "Where are the others?!" The sergeant frowned, and shouted in Russian, flailing his arm around at them. They nodded, and jogged off, presumably to look for the others. Katie pleaded, with a whimpering voice and pleading eyes (the use of which had relieved her from the grasp of many tough situations) "…Please…. Don't kill them." He smiled. "They will be fine. We will bring them to you, in peace. We are unarmed." He leant back, arms spread wide, showing he had no guns. It was strange, but Katie felt compelled to trust the Belarusians. The sergeant cleared his throat. "My name is Reznov. I am a sergeant here in Belarus. We were told that an enemy unidentified helicopter was entering our airspace. We had contacted it to change course, but it refused – then when we asked again, there was no reply." Katie was confused. "When I was aboard, we received no messages… are you _sure_ you sent those messages?" Katie's head was filled with confusing and frightening ideas. What if there was a second helicopter, following them, which was the one they were mistaken for? Or maybe, there could have been an irregular jamming device? Or worse… there could have been, and still is, a man on the inside. "We will take you to the nearest facility, then we can get that wound seen to." Reznov seemed confident that she would be taken care of. Reznov picked her up, supporting her head and her legs at the knee joint and carried her. The journey was slow and painful, and Katie's vision grew hazy.

The loud echoing noise of someone clearing their throat woke Katie. The noise rang in her ears. She looked around her. She was lying on a bed, made of cheap metal, which squeaked as she rolled over. The blanket was an old itchy green one, reminiscent of World War Two blankets. She looked forward to see Reznov. There was a figure next to him. The figure, build, height… it all seemed very familiar… Gaz. Reznov cleared his throat again. Katie looked around. Her head pounded in agony. Her leg ached. "Gaz… where are the others?" She sat up, and the blood rushed to her leg. She quivered, and slowly straightened her leg. Gaz' informal tone resonated in her head, along with the ringing in her ears which had continued ceaselessly since the crash. "They're waiting by the helicopter." Katie smiled. They were all okay. Price. Gaz… Jake. She beamed from ear to ear.

"You realize that this was an attack pre-determined and directed at you, yes?" Katie had no idea, but Gaz nodded, so she nodded, blissfully unaware of what he meant. The gaping wound in her leg began to tingle again. "Ow." She murmured in pain. Gaz glanced at her. "We better go, Reznov. She's injured." Reznov nodded and smiled sympathetically. "You must go. Go with your comrades. When you return, we will be here to aid you." Gaz nodded and smiled. "Until then Reznov." Katie limped out the door, and the sunshine glared down angrily upon her, blinding her. Her arm shot up to guard her eyes, and she saw the spinning blades of the helicopter. The typhoon of dust and dirt swirled around her, and Katie placed one hand on the helicopter. She turned to see if Gaz was coming, and he was. She felt a warm hand envelope her own and pulled her in. She felt herself spin to face the owner of the hand. Jake. He smiled. She wrapped her arm around him as he pulled her into the helicopter.

As they took off, she relinquished her arm from his waist. He, however, did not return the favour, instead, pinning her to his side. She smiled, knowing full well that he wouldn't let her go, in every sense of the phrase.


End file.
